Blame Me
by Soimcoolwithlife
Summary: Connor has a habit of not knowing when to get help. Natalie learns along the way.(slight natxconnor or strong friends) songfic


**I am so sorry. No, honestly, I am really really sorry about Faults. I will update, and soon. But this was killing me. I needed to write this so badly. This is part of the collection with Faults. I am calling this collection Pasts. That is probably what it will be called from now on. I have ideas for Nat and Choi, so I need ideas for the rest of the crew. Hope you enjoy! I will update the other story soon.**

 **I might write more like this before getting back to faults, but it will be there.**

 **Ok, so this is about Connor and Natalie, slash. I want to create a ship name, because as far as I know, I am the first author who ships them. The slash is not obvious in this. They don't make out or anything. It is subtle. If you want, you can read it as being close friends. For the ship name, I'm thinking Connalie, but ring, manor, or Rodalie also work. Tell me what you think!**

 **disclaimer: I obviously don't own Chicago med. I do own the lyrics(in italics). They are mine, so Pm me or email me. Emails** **are hard to put.**

 **hellolifeimokandyou at google email( you know the one) .com**

 **Enjoy!**

 _They told me the world was crashing_

 _And only I could save it_

 _They told me love was a blessing_

 _But I never could see this_

He hurts. Not physically, but mentally this time. Seeing his father brings jarring, sharp memories to his mind, memories he would like to forget. Words were said, he knew that, but immediately after his father drove away, he found a text on his phone, obviously from his father: **You think you are so much, but you bring down everyone around you. It's your fault.** It's that moment he knows where he is going. The roof is a safe place, where he can think. Maybe he'll get drunk in a bar on the way home. Maybe he can forget it all.

 _It comes tumbling down,_

 _like cards blown over by a breath._

 _Forget now,_

 _soon remembrance is regret._

He wants someone with him. He is dangerous without someone. Robyn? No. They had a falling out. It wasn't an official break up, because they still harbored feelings for each other. But he decided he could bring her down. He knew he was spiraling down, keeping a facade for everyone, being the perfect doctor, the silent but bold kind. He could not bear the thought of her drowning in his pit of darkness.

 _Stay safe, safe and sound._

 _They push, you land on solid ground._

 _But you think, oh you think, that it's all on you._

 _They know it's not, but you think it's true._

 _So let it go,_

 _the tides will wash away the pain_

 _you know._

 _comes roaring in like waves_

 _you, think that you're insane_

 _you're sane_

He needs someone gentle. Someone who can calm him down. Will? No, he didn't need a strained friendship right now. He needed something there, not something that should be there. He needed someone to be his bridge, steady, already built, willing to carry him across to the other side. He needs someone he is close to, someone his age. Someone who will force him to talk, and in short, who will make him feel whole. He wants to feel whole, but this time, without the alcohol poisoning and hangover.

 _All in, to hurt and abuse you_

 _Sticks and stones, won't hurt the way the words do_

 _your cries, in he back of your mind are unheard_

 _cause they are empty words_

 _you know, that that you want it all_

He wants Natalie. A friend, who is kind, who knows his limits. He could call Zanetti, but she would just push. He could talk to Choi, but they don't really have a bond yet. Natalie is the perfect option. A friend. He can't say he has had one of those in a while. She is pretty, he can't deny, but he sees her as something important in his life. He doesn't quite know what, but he appreciates her. She would still be at the hospital, he needed to go and find her.

 _Blaming me,_

 _oh please do,_

 _my fault, break me if you need to_

 _I'm already broken in my mind_

He finds himself on the roof, not searching for Natalie. People must think he's insane, because he found part of he roof doesn't have a glass railing, and is at a slope. So he sits there sometimes, with 2 windows on either side. The spot is perfect, because no one sees him, but the skyline in gorgeous in front of his eyes, and he can look at people rushing about the hospital. He knows it's dangerous to sit like this, but falling is always a risk. That's why he likes it. It is excruciating dangerous and painful sometimes. When his mother died, they had taken her to the hospital anyway, and he found this exact spot. It brought terrible memories, the contemplation of jumping off, and something that felt like joy.

 _So let it go,_

 _the tides will wash away the pain_

 _you know_

 _comes roaring in like waves_

 _you, think that you're insane_

 _you're sane_

He doesn't come to jump off, he comes to find the joy left here. The fact that he can be happy because he is doing good in the world, in the same place that he used to be happy because he was going to leave the world, well, that brings a joy that was unexplainable. He loves it. He doesn't come up super often, but there are some days where people think he has disappeared off the face of the earth. That's how he copes. Either sitting on a roof, precariously balanced, or working till he collapses with exhaustion. Like, physically collapses.

 _You love the fact that there is so much to lose_

 _you know you don't want yourself in anyone else's shoes_

 _and you know the pain your causing will never fade_

 _but during warfare, fires burn for days_

 _without embers, left behind, it's so unkind_

He sits there, still, as the sun sinks even lower in he Chicago skyline. Windows are turning off as people head home from late shifts. He doesn't know how long he just watches. Suddenly, a soft voice is talking next to him. It's the kind of words that don't even try to mean something, because Connor obviously wasn't listening. But the voice is mellow and gentle, in control. If Connor was paying attention, he could have been forced to do anything the words commanded. He looks up, after what seems like a lifetime.

 _And I know that when I die,_

 _the burning lights, will fade away_

 _and if tomorrow came, but I was gone_

 _would you stay?_

 _so bury me, in velvet_

 _and watch as, they pull me away_

 _then get drunk on cheap wine,_

 _and forget the yesterdays_

She is breathtaking tonight. Her dark hair was wavy-ish, falling a few inches past her shoulders, curvy, wavy, like a river. She is wearing a dress for once, short but not very short, a dark blue, silky and lacy and just a bit of volume at the skirt. The sweetheart neckline on the just off the shoulder dress leaves a clean palate for her necklace, a gold charm in the shape of a star. She smiles, and he can tell she didn't bother to do more makeup after her shift, but she looks perfect. She looks like she knows it all, she has seen it all, and she still makes the best of it. He knows, instantly, just by her eyes, she was worried about him.

 _Sticks and stones can hurt_

 _but not the way the words do_

 _tell me that I'll fall_

 _I know and I believe you_

He smiles at her, but they both know it's fake. He changed when his father left, and he wears black jeans, slightly distressed, and a dark grey t-shirt. He was cold. So cold, that he honestly wondered how long he had been here. Maybe 2 hours? No, longer. Much longer. The reception was from 6-7. By the way the sun was practically gone, and considering it was summer, it should have been about 9? He looked at the skyline, and realized the sun had completely disappeared, with only office lights and the moon lighting the sky. So, it must be like 10? 10:30?

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sitting out in the cold so long without even a jacket, just a thin t-shirt.

"12 o'clock. Have you been here since the reception?" She inquired, without pushing. After his short nod, she sat down next to him. Honestly, she didn't really love heights, but they were tolerable and she wanted to help Connor.

He quickly became absorbed in his own thoughts as the lights on the top floor of Dolan Rhodes shut off. It was late, but the light switch was automated. He knew everyone would be gone. His sister, Russell, his father. They would be home. He couldn't ruin their lives more than he had. But Natalie... Nat was so close, and he might just ruin her life.

 _They told me I was crashing,_

 _And no one could save me,_

 _Hate made a disaster,_

 _Somone save me please_

Without knowing it, a look a panic entered his eyes. Natalie frowned. Connor Rhodes wasn't afraid. But he was now. His breathing was only marginally faster, put he looked panicked. Afraid. She put her hand on his chest. She gently rubbed a circle along his sternum, before realizing something. Connor was feverish. She had only come in for her shift, starting at 10:00. She had wandered to the roof and saw Connor. The reception was pretty much mandatory. She didn't have the morning shift, she was at home, then she went to the reception. It was really slow in pediatrics, and she was still in her dress. She had been filling out paperwork for 2 hours, she needed a break. But now that Connor was on the roof, she wanted to stay here. Any ways, Connor was hot. Not in that sense, though no one could deny he was steaming sexy, but his skin was really warm to the touch. Through his shirt, she could feel a fever burning as his breaths slowly went back to normal and he looked less frightened.

 _Come on blame me_

 _I was to blind to see_

 _I should saved you_

 _Why can't I save you?_

"Connor? When did you start feeling sick?" She asked so gently, because freaking Connor out was not going to help. He looks at her, and yes, he definitely has a fever.

"Maybe...a few hours ago?" He finally responds.

"You were out here five hours with no jacket."

"It's summer."

"It's freezing! It's still Chicago. You're going to develop pneumonia."

"Yeah," he says, carelessly.

And he leans against the roof, watches the cars go by. He watches the drunks stumbling out of closing bars and clubs just opening. He watches the lights turn off across the city. He looks sick. He looks tired, and she remembers he was working a double shift before this reception. Wait...he was also working a double before that...and what about that Monday? She suddenly realized that since the announcement for the new psych ward was public, Connor was working double shifts. Which meant he hadn't slept since Saturday night. It was Thursday. Friday, she reminded herself, as she glanced at her watch, to see another 1/2 hour had gone by.

"You need to sleep," she says firmly. Before Connor can reply, he is coughing and coughing. It seems like he can't even take a breath, but the coughs are slowing, so she just pushes him forward slightly, careful of the roof.

When the coughing finally stopped, Connor looked pale and exhausted. She wondered how he was upright. Probably coffee and willpower, she guessed.

 _So let it go,_

 _the tides will wash away the pain_

 _you know_

 _comes roaring in like waves_

 _you, think that you're insane_

 _you're sane_

He leaned back against the roof, lungs working furiously to provide oxygen. She knew she had to get Connor medicine. Medicine and rest.

"Come on. You've been here for 6 hours. We are going inside. You need rest, and medicine."

"Mmh." he murmured. He looked so tired. She felt the subtle chill on her arms, and she wondered how Connor lasted so long in the cold.

"Up. We are going inside," she stated firmly, gently pulling Connor up.

He looked more awake as they made their way across the roof. To bad she didn't see the corner of a window.

She felt herself stumble, and she vaguely wondered if she would die like that, falling of a roof. Oops.

Suddenly, calloused hands and strong arms were pulling her close, keeping her from falling.

"Thank you."

He just smiles teasingly, as they make their way to the hospital staircase.

Connor keeps coughing often. She knows it is probably a chest infection, but he just looks so tired she doesn't bring it up.

 **~CM~**

She was at his apartment, again. She had been there before, once, when she was drunk as hell. But now, taking care of him when he is sick, that was a different thing.

She diagnosed him with walking pneumonia and extreme exhaustion. He just sighed and nodded. After she gave him his meds to take home, he made to leave alone, until she firmly stopped him and convinced him to let her come.

Now, as she listened to the painful sounds of his coughs, which were getting worse, not better, she wondered if she should of admitted him. But, he seemed adamant in not wanting to be a patient.

That was why she was in his bed, leaning on the headrest and running her hands through his hair absentmindedly. He never seemed to sleep soundly. The few times he did manage to fall asleep without having a coughing fit, he had a nightmare and woke again. It was a viscous cycle.

It was 6:00 in the morning. She realized she had fallen asleep near him, fingers still in his hair, his breathing labored and a nightmare happening.

His breaths were fast, and sounded painful, and he was restless. She placed her fingers hear his heart and tapped slowly. Somehow, this had worked with the other nightmares. Touching his shoulder had made it worse. She knew now, he was absorbed in memories.

 _And it doesn't matter_

 _What they say_

 _It'll all hurt you_

 _Anyway_

He is pale, and his fever went up. Every breath he takes sounds worse. She contemplated taking him to the hospital, but Connor would never agree to that. She slowly got up, careful not to wake him. She had eaten a few hours ago, but she didn't know the last time Connor ate real food. After opening his fridge, she saw it was pretty empty. She fished out her cell phone, sighing.

"Will? Yeah, can you come over to Connor's place? With groceries and Tylenol, and sleep aid maybe? Ok, thanks. No, I will explain later. Yep, bye."

After she hung up, she grabbed a glass of water and went back to Connor's bedroom. He was in the middle of a vicious nightmare.

"Shh. It's all going to be fine," she said soothingly, running her fingers along his abs. She traced patterns and fiddled with his hair. Will had better come quick, because he was burning up.

All of a sudden, Connor rolled onto his side and started coughing, hard. It went on, the only thing Natalie could do was lean him forward and whisper soothing things as she rubbed his sternum. She could feel his chest heaving with the force of the coughs. 4 minutes later, it stopped and she sighed, her fingers twidling in through his hair.

A buzz on her phone was a text from Will, saying he was at the door. She got up and let him in. There he stood, groceries and medicines in hand.

"Tell me again why I brought this to Connor's apartment. And why are you in Connor's apartment anyay?"

His expression was priceless when he saw her. She changed out of her dress, and pulled out a hoodie of Connor's. He didn't seem the type to own or wear hoodies, but he had this grey one that she had worn over her change of clothes. Just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, her hair looked formal. She had mussed it up while she was sleeping.

Will took one look at her, standing in Connor's apartment, looking what could only be described of as sexy. Then he jumped to conclusions.

"Are you?..." he asked, looking a bit jealous.

"Connor hasn't slept in a week, Will. He has walking pneumonia, and I convinced him to let me come over."

Her statement is firm. That's all they were doing, nothing more.

 _So you throw it all away_

 _On whiskey and memories_

 _So you laugh_

 _And save the day_

Connor coughs, lengthily, painful. Natalie rushes to his room, Will at her heels. Will stops dead at the doorway, unable to comprehend the situation.

Natalie is tapping her fingers over Connor's heart. Connor clearly isn't awake, but he looks like death. He looks pale, exhausted, and sick.

So he knows what he should do, as these are his friends. Natalie is still tapping her fingers, playing with Connor's hair, so he silently makes for the living room. He steals a quick glance, and Natalie is already asleep. He can't help it. He snaps a photo. He looks at it, slightly jealous but so happy. Natalie looks content as she sleeps, and Connor looks a little less sick.

Then he leaves, quietly closing the door behind him.

 **~CM~**

Connor wasn't better. He should be, but his fever kept rising and falling and doing more of the former than the latter. His breath sounds are worse. To have pneumonia that bad, Natalie suspects he had a fever before he even sat on that roof.

His nightmares are scary, and she can only make out a few words, none of them good. So to her surprise, Connor was sitting awake on the bed. Well, he was coughing. But awake.

He somehow choked out her name, as he began coughing blood. Rushing over to him, she called 911.

 **~CM~**

 _You can't save me from me_

He wakes up in a hospital bed, new jeans on, and he suspects Nat gave the nurses a talking to. There is an oxygen mask secured over his mouth and nose, and his chest hurts. A lot.

He moves his arms slightly, testing his range of motion, and slowly brings his hand up to his chest. He is shirtless, and he can feel the bandages on his chest. Those kinds of bandages covered sutures. Sutures meant he had surgery.

He groaned and forced his eyes open. He tried to talk, but his throat hurt.

"What?" He finally made out, coughing.

Gentle hands now moved over him, checking the bandages as he closed his eyes again.

"Up and at them," a voice says firmly. He once again forces his eyes open, blinking as the lights are on his face.

"You are one very lucky guy, Rhodes," Natalie says teasingly. He gives her half a smile, before she explains what happened.

"You were coughing blood. You couldn't breathe, so I called 911. You stopped breathing on the ambulance, Connor. You died." She says softly, worriedly. " We thought you were gone, but you had a really bad case of pneumonia, which caused a collapsed lung, which led to us finding out that you used to have asthma, and scarring in the lungs,"

He frowns, because he never had asthma. Natalie understands, and says,

"It probably went undetected as a kid, but now, it just caused complications."

He nods slightly as she goes on."You fell into a coma. A coma. And then they hadn't to fix your lungs and the scarring and keep you hydrated because you haven't had water in a while."

He smiles as she rants.

"How long was I out?" He asked, coughing.

"Almost two weeks. You got worse before you got better. You got way worse."

He realizes she is almost crying.

 _So let it go._

Connor just nods when she says to never go a week without sleep again, 'because that would kill you Connor, and I mean it'.

 _The tides will wash way the pain_

And he realizes he is getting tired, because major surgery 'is risky'.

 _You know_

And suddenly her fingers are clasped tightly around his.

 _Comes roaring in like waves_

He smiles at her, as she holds his hand, and he recognizes his hoodie.

 _You, think that you're insane_

And he finally falls asleep, hand in hers, privy only to Will's camera.

 _You're sane._

Click.


End file.
